Random1
by anshtH
Summary: This is the story of one of the most tragic incidents in the Great War, Mahabharat from the point of view of a small bird. I am not sure if it is a proper summary. I apologize in advance for all the mistakes (grammatical and factual) in the story. Also this the first story that I am publishing, so all reviews are appreciated. I also apologize for the bad title :(. :)


_13__th__ day of the Great War_

The battlefield was rife with blood, bodies and screams of both the victors and the victims. It looked like the most tragic event from above. I was not bothered by war. It was a war of humans and I am just a bird who was flying back to his nest. My entire family had seen many wars and many of my brothers and sisters have been killed in a war where we never took part. I had learnt how to adapt, in order to save myself.

I found war unnecessary. Only humans seem to die for glory. I have never understood what is glorious about death. Only life is glorious. If you die, you stop existing. You are not there at all. I know you might try arguing that it is the body that dies and the soul moves on. But dude, I am just a bird. I don't understand the hidden concepts and meaning behind the neither transition of soul from one form to another. Nor do I have the desire to understand it.

I was about to just lament over the stupidity of my supposedly intelligent planet-mates and leave this place when I saw something that looked like a wheel. It looked like a very huge wheel. On closer inspection, I found that it was some military formation by one of the armies that was fighting. It looked like some sort of circular maze from my point of view. Interesting. I thought of moving a bit closer to see what it is. Hey, even we birds are curious.

I was able to find a place where I could perch properly and see what was happening. I saw a younger species of male human. He seemed like a human fledgling to me. In human terms, he might have been 16 or something. This fledgling seemed to break the human wheel with remarkable speed and precision. Anyone who fought him was defeated almost instantly. He looked like someone special.

First, he was just a fledgling. On top of that, he was able to defeat all the adult humans with remarkable ease. The interesting thing was he would only fight them when they had a double stick like thing in their hands. (The stick like thing is some sort of a weapon, which had a string, using which you launch smaller sticks with triangle shaped things attached on to its ends).

He seemed like a great fighter and good hearted one at that. He never seemed to verbally attack anyone. He did not attack anyone who did not have sticks. Behind him, there were four grown men, who seemed to be unable to catch up with his speed. Soon they were left behind. These men looked like kinsmen. They seemed to be protective of him and they wanted to be with him. But the fledgling was too fast for them.

I usually, as a rule, do not like humans, but I started liking this fledgling a lot. His family must be very proud of him. I saw the fledgling disappear in to a crowd of other human men. His kinsmen seemed to have lost him.

I flew a bit higher to find where my fledgling was. He was fighting with someone, again, and he was winning, again. His opponent, just like the others, was a grown human though unlike others he seemed very skilful. It looked like he knew how to use that stick properly. But even then, my fledgling was able to defeat him. I saw that his opponent respected his skills as a warrior. I was filled with pride. It was like one of my own was fighting.

It seemed like many men as powerful as him tried fighting him. All of them were defeated. I have never been more proud in my entire life. It could have been some nurturing instincts that might have been roused when one sees a young one of any kind and wishes they have a great life, irrespective of their species. It does not matter if species wise they are your enemy, you never want to kill the young ones.

It was going great. I was about to leave, thinking that my fledgling would surely win everyone. Just then, I saw two of my fledgling's opponents talking. A sense of dread came over me. It felt like something bad was about to happen.

My fledgling's last few opponents gathered around him in a circle. All those opponents who were as good as he surrounded him. One of them attacked my fledgling. Before he could save himself another one attacked from behind. My fledgling was hit. He lost the stick with which he was defending himself. One by one they kept attacking. I was furious and scared. I gathered up courage and went in there to defend him when an arrow pierced my wings and I was stuck to something.

I struggled to get my wings out, but it seemed stuck for good. I watched with despair as my fledgling getting beaten up mercilessly by those vultures. All of them started attacking him all at once. Blood was flowing like river. Unable to release myself and protect him, I cried in frustration and sadness. Frustration because something terribly wrong was happening and sadness, because I knew my fledgling will be killed right in front of me.

But my fledgling was strong. I watched with pride and tears that he took a wheel in his hands and started killing himself. He was strong. Even bloodied, singled out and broken, my fledgling was able to cause more damage. But alas, this moment was not going to last forever.

Another one from the group pushed him to the ground while some other man came and crushed his head.

NO!

I wailed and weeped for him. I wanted to kill those men for killing one of their young ones with such cruelty. I wanted to go to my fledgling to comfort him in his last moments. But I knew that he was dead. I cried like a bird who had lost all hopes of living, like a bird who had lost everything.

Along with my cries, I heard the cries of others. His four kinsmen were weeping like they had lost someone who they cherished the most. They crying and blaming themselves for not being there to protect him. I saw them going towards my fledgling and putting his head carefully in their laps and weeping.

I wept silently. I never knew my fledgling but I too felt his loss. I still cannot comprehend how could I from a completely different species weep over him, while his own species could kill him in cold blood. I saw the sun go down and more of his kin approach him and cry and weep. There were vows of revenge being made. I saw his father praise him for his bravery. For not giving up even when he was surrounded by wolves. I saw his father take an oath to kill all those miscreants who killed his son. I silently added my prayers to his oath so that he could succeed.

Just as I was crying silently, I saw Him crying silently as well. I saw Him looking at my fledgling with great sadness and tenderness. He suddenly turned and saw me looking at Him. He walked towards me, looking at me with those sad and understanding eyes.

He freed my wing and talked to me.

"You too have lost someone. Haven't you, little one?"

"I am not the little one my Lord. He was."

"I know"

"How could you let them kill him? How could You let him die?"

"It is not in my hands, little one. It never was."

I look over the battlefield see all the carnage and destruction. I knew that war was not glorious. I knew that there is no glory in death.

But I also know that my fledgling was glorious, both in life and in death. If there was ever an innocent, it was him. If there was ever someone who deserved to happiness, it was him. I look at Him and ask Him.

"Will they ever pay for what they did?"

He looks resolute and says, "They will."

One final question.

"What is my fled... his name?"

He smiles one his most gentlest smiles and tells me,

"Abhimanyu."


End file.
